


500 Miles

by Go0se



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: 1890s, 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - The Soulmate Goose of Enforcement, Angst and Fluff, Bisexual Allen Walker, Bisexual Everyone that I write with my bisexual little hands, Bisexual Lenalee Lee, Carnivals, College, Dreamsharing, F/M, Fake Courtship, Happy Ending, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Your Daemon Knows Your Soulmate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2019-12-31 14:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18314105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Go0se/pseuds/Go0se
Summary: Five universes where Allen and Lenalee were soulmates, and one where they weren't, but everything still worked out. Eventually.1. Dreamsharing: The only thing that made the connection bearable was knowing Lenalee that closely too.2. Daemons: The heart of the circus was chaos. Wonderful, busy, noisy chaos.3. Soulmate Goose Of Enforcement: It hadn't exactly been a surprise.





	1. When I Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> Title is of course from ['I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tbNlMtqrYS0), by The Proclaimers.  
> Thank you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dreamsharing!  
> Canon timeline/events, traumatic childhoods, Timcanpy politely defenestrating himself out of private conversations, and hugs.

As Allen followed Lenalee through the shadowy halls of the Black Order for the first time, he got the feeling that the New Exorcist’s Tour Of Headquarters, worthy of all its capitals, would usually be more descriptive than this. The beautiful girl in front of him pointed out the rooms and what they were for in a haphazard, awkward kind of way, and didn’t describe them much, or introduce him to anybody except for people they passed incidentally, who stared at Allen with visible appraisal and then dismissal.

Allen tugged his bandana down farther over his hair but otherwise didn’t acknowledge them one whit. Allen couldn’t judge for distraction. He'd barely managed a hello back in the foyer; and had his suitcase tight in one hand, Timcanpy nestled in his hair, and his heart in his throat since he'd got here.

They walked up and down stairwells, through narrow lanes and along balconies. Allen was lost almost immediately. Given where his focus was, it all would’ve become a blur even if they _hadn’t_ been walking in literal endless circles. Thankfully part of his background awareness registered which rooms existed, if not where they were in relation to absolutely anything else. Cafeteria, the lounge, the Finder barracks, bathrooms, the ominously smoking doorway that led several floors down into the science section, the archives, the library, public training rooms, and--

“This is one of our private training rooms,” she said, opening another wooden door.

Allen peered past her into what, indeed, looked like a compressed version of the public training rooms. A number of mannequins stood like waiting soldiers in the far corner, next to mats piled on the padded floor. A couple long benches had been pushed against equally padded walls. The only natural light in the room came from high-placed, thin windows that would be difficult to break unless you intentionally tried to. "Right,” he said.

Lenalee nodded, twice, and then walked in.  
That surprised him. He stood motionless in the hallway for a moment, bewildered, before he swallowed and dutifully followed her.  
The door swung shut behind them.

 

As soon as they were inside, Timcanpy took off from Allen’s head and winged towards a window ledge, perching to face the overcast sky. Allen didn't have time to wonder why he’d done that, because Lenalee spoke again and his attention snapped back to her immediately.

“So, this is a private room,” she repeated herself, gesturing around the room. She wasn’t quite looking at him. “They're, um. There are ten of them around the headquarters, for anyone to use. Obviously they're outfitted to be safe for training with Innocence, but there's no limit on who can be in here at any given time."

“Okay.” The room was about as big as the block of drunk tank cells in a two-bar kind of town, Allen thought detachedly. Thin streams of light fell through the clouds and the windows to pour onto Lenalee's hair, making it glow in the dim room.

“Usually our Exorcists stick with the public training rooms because it's more convenient, but sometimes people prefer these ones to-- to meditate, or--” She'd turned away from him now, facing the opposite wall as her voice tapered off. She was holding the clipboard by the ends of her fingers, which were visibly shaking.

“That's good,” Allen managed. His throat was constructing a little. He wanted to ask her to turn around talk with him, but his nerve was failing right. He pulled his necktie slightly looser and tightened his hold on his suitcase. “L-- Lenalee--”

It was the first time he'd actually said her name out loud in years. He couldn't tell if the feeling boiling under his ribs was excitment or petrification.

 

She must have felt something like it too. She turned at hearing her name, open shock on her face and her beautiful eyes bright with tears.

His breath left him in a rush like he'd been punched.  _Please don't cry,_ he wanted to say, like he'd said so many times before he'd lost all count. But he couldn't ask that of her now. Not when his own eyes were filling with tears just looking at her so upset. “Lenalee, I…”

But no other words came. Frustration at himself starting pulsing furiously in the back of his head. For how long he'd looked forward to this exact moment, and he had _nothing_ to say?

It turned out his speechlessness didn't matter. The clipboard clattered to the floor as Lenalee let go and stepped forwards once; Allen instinctively dropped his suitcase as well and went to her.  
It was less a hug and more a soft collision. Their arms wrapped around each other like a flower blooming backwards and for a moment Allen couldn't imagine letting go of her ever again. He was actively crying too now, or maybe he had been for a while. Stray strands of her hair stuck to the side of his face as he pressed his forehead into her shoulder. “Lenalee,” he mumbled again.

 

Your soulmate shared your dreams, and everyone said it was a beautiful thing. Maybe for other people it was. Allen and Lenalee had ten years of nightmares and death between them.  
Growing up had been like God’s cruellest game of keep-away: Allen had been miserable, head full of mud and broken bones, while Lenalee had been safe and content, dreams all hopeful and bright with the light of a happy child. Then, right when Mana had found Allen at last, Lenalee had been torn away from her family and her home and forced into hell. Years later Komui had returned to Lenalee and Allen had lost Mana for good.

When Allen’s fever had broken and he’d woken up in Mother’s house, with the scar and the hair and the horrifying Mana-shaped hole in his heart, the first reason he’d listened to Cross at all was because of her. He didn’t know what had happened at first, and like hell he was going to trust whoever Cross was supposed to be; but he knew what the Black Order meant. Lenalee was there.

After that they had trained together, in a way.  
  
Cross had tried to force him to block out the dreams for the first year of his apprenticeship, insisting he’d be stronger alone. But Allen couldn’t bear it; his connection to Lenalee was too much of his life, of his thoughts, to try and barricade her out like that.  
Worse, it’d hurt Lenalee. So many times he’d been convinced he’d lost her, when she’d been struck unconscious after a battle and he’d only known she hadn’t been there in his dreams for nights on end, no idea why-- the second-worst pain he’d ever felt in his life, over and over again. He could never do that to her on purpose. Never.

That still didn’t mean their soulbond was _comfortable_ to him. It was terrifying. Especially as he grew into being Cross’ apprentice and started stitching together the different pieces of himself that he’d hide as much as he could, or use to cheat gangmembers out of their money, or charm women who worked in evenings into not minding him scurrying in the background of their workspace for months on end. There were all kinds of things he’d seen that no one else should. The nightmares not the least of it. Someone _being inside his head_ like that was terrifying.  
The only thing that made it bearable was knowing Lenalee that closely too. And that it _was_ Lenalee. She was just... they just... fit. That was the point.

Not all soulmates were romantic, everyone knew that; a bond just meant you were supposed to be together. But to Allen it always had been. You can’t _not_ love someone after being so close to them for so long, or at the very least Allen couldn’t. He’d been in love with Lenalee his whole life.

  
And now she was _here_. The back of her jacket was all sweaty, and the faint smell of flowers drifted from her hair. He’d never known that before. Allen might have been panicking a little but he was certain it was the best perfume anyone could ever have.

(It was too late to be self-conscious about what he probably smelled like after so long on the road. She clearly didn't mind, anyway.)

They still had more of the headquarters to see, Lenalee’s brother to meet, and the strange giant glowing woman who Lenalee had described as another Exorcist to let read his Innocence. People would start to wonder what’d happened if they were gone for too long. All of this was just the beginning, barely even that.  
Right then he couldn’t possibly care.

“Allen,” Lenalee said into his tan coat, voice damp with her tears. “Oh, Allen. I'm… I'm so glad you're here.”

The sentiment was bittersweet. Allen couldn’t read her thoughts, but he thought he knew how much of which. He turned his face closer into the crook of her neck and tightened his arms, feeling hers close tighter around him in response. “I know,” he said softly, “Me too."

 

/


	2. When I Go Out (If I Haver)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's been a minute. This is a 'Your Daemon Knows Your Soulmate' chapter, set in a universe without Innocence or akuma, in northwestern France during the early 1890s.  
> Warning for descriptions past of assault/injuries.  
> Thank you to Kit Kat, Cat, and Froggy for helping me hash out & edit this one!
> 
>  
> 
> _**Haver:** (Scotland) To talk foolishly; to chatter._

The circus grounds were disorganized and dirty, tents of all sizes and colour patterns dotting the gently sloping field like mushrooms, just outside the north end of Ville De Rennes. Scraps of newspapers flew everywhere in the breeze, along with loose dust from the road, and general detirus scattered about as so many people bought and ate and then dropped the remaining sticks or paper at their feet.

A colourful banner hung over the front 'gate', leading carnival-goers onto a well-tred dirt path. It branched into two paths right as the field began to incline. Most guests went straight ahead, into the fair proper, with much bustling around and calling and laughing. A steady number people also streamed down the left path, which led to a setup both smaller than the main attractions and farther away.  
Despite the distance, it was clear enough that the women and men in that section were enticing carnival-goers for entirely… different kinds of entertainment. Hand-stenciled banners listed a fee of two francs for admittance to tents, beside hand-drawn silhouettes of who exactly was inside.

Following the flow of people with natural curiousity, Lenalee blushed deeply once she realized what the ‘attractions’ were.  
She nearly jumped out of her skin when Komui clapped his hands onto her shoulders and steered her sharply in the other direction.

“Nevermind that, Lenalee,” her brother said loudly, as if walking fast enough would erase the signs and tents from existence.  
Beside him, Xiuying trilled and ruffled her feathers indignantly. She matched their pace easily with her long legs. Poor Ruihan had to hurry along the ground to keep up.

 

It was partly for her daemons sake that Lenalee shrugged off her brother as quickly as she could. Partly, she was just annoyed. She turned on her heel towards him, resettling her braided hair with a scowl. “You don’t need to push, Komui, I can walk on my own,” she said. _I’m_ _ **nineteen**_ _,_ she wanted to remind him, but even in her head it sounded petulant.

With a look of dismay Komui pulled back, dropping his hands. Xiuying’s feathers de-fluffed and her head drooped. "I know, dear, but--"

Lenalee bit back the apology that’d flown to her tongue, resolutely turning away from him and continuing towards the main fair, minding her long skirts on the well-trod soil. _But, nothing_. She could assert herself. So often he still treated her like a confused child, when plenty of her friends her same age were wives and mothers by now. It wasn't as though a fragment of her innocence had been destroyed. Lenalee had known people worked in the evenings before; she'd just been surprised to see people parade it so brashly, making it such a-- well, a circus. She wasn't being unreasonable.

  
Her righteous indignation lasted a minute or so before something soft nudged her ankles. She looked down at Ruihan, his brown-and-grey patterned fur as familiar to her as her own hand.  
He huffed up at her as they walked, lifting his snout forwards towards the rest of the fair. "It’s too early for this _,"_ he said.  
Through all the noise in the air, if not for him being her daemon, she wouldn't've been able to hear him at all. But she had, unfortunately. Ruihan was right  They’d came out here as a family, to enjoy themselves. It had been a long, long week in the factory for Komui and the laundry for Lenalee. They barely saw each other, really. Lenalee couldn’t just ignore him like this on a day they'd specifically meant to have fun together. And besides, fairs seemed like the kind of place that were more fun with company. She’d never been to one before.  
Lenalee pressed her lipstogether for a moment, then sighed.

She slowed her pace and turned back to face her brother, who (as she'd guessed) been following close behind her, wringing his hands. “I think someone’s selling salted peanuts over there-- it smells good,” she offered, as an apology.

For a moment, Komui stayed tense, but as she spoke he relaxed and clasped his hands together like a picture of delight. “That sounds wonderful, Lenalee,” he crowed. “Let’s go over there right now, I have to try it!”

Lenalee laughed, as Xiuyang craned her neck forwards to fuss over a snag in Ruihan’s fur. They were okay again.

 

The heart of the circus was chaos; wonderful, busy, noisy chaos. In individual pieces it might’ve been horrendous, was the funny thing. You could hardly hear yourself speak. Flies buzzed anywhere they could get shelter from the wind, but especially beside the opening flaps to large tents where people had parked carriage horses, which you had to be careful not to spook if you wanted to get inside to see a show. Road apples laid here and there around the grounds, also attracting flies, and the whole path had been torn up by so many heels that it was more mud than grass. Although, a few children (maybe eleven years old, she thought) were walking around with bags leaking sawdust over the continually turned-around dirt, which made it slightly less liable to stick to your boots.

Neither the flies or the horse leavings in the walking path took away from the spectacle of it all for Lenalee. The flashing colours of the performers, the stripes and dots of the tents, the sparkle of the trinket booths stacked to brims with pendants and good luck charms. Most of the stalls were open air. Sounds rang from every direction. One could generously refer to it as music, but it was really mostly cacophony: accordions and trumpets and the scatter of applause whenever a clown or acrobat did an impressive trick. Kiosk workers hawking their wares or food or enticing carnival-goers to their games.  
She loved it. It was so very different from the humid semi-darkness in the laundry, or their comfortable but cramped rooms. (Or the narrow, austere angles of the church home that had pressed their sharp corners into her dreams-- but she pushed that out of her mind.) The air was easy to breathe, here, even with the road apples.

  
Komui of course wanted to stop at every single stall and sample every dainty and drink, and gambling game. (Except for the alcohol. He kept a wide berth around the rowdy beer tent, under the pretense of, “I need to set an example for you, dear!” Nevermind that he couldn’t hold liquor any better than Lenalee.) They took two of every sample, and she decided to buy him something small when he wasn't looking.

Ruìhán waddled through the crowd around her feet, keeping close to her ankles but sniffing curiously at the other daemons as they all passed by. Somewhere between their second helping of peanuts and Komui’s frustrated attempts at a fish-catching game, he looked up at her and huffed happily.  
Lenalee smiled back. She knelt and scooped him into her arms. His muddy paws and belly got all over her dress’ front and her shoulder, but that was alright; she’d wash it out when she got home before the stains set. And most of it was already deep brown, anyway, same as her boots.  
“There’s so many,” Ruìhán said into her ear after he'd finished scrambling to see over his shoulder.  
She nodded. With her back against the pole of the fishing game stall, she let her eyes travel between all of them.

Lenalee worked until the middle of the second shift, so during the week she didn’t see many people except the other women and girls there, and her brother. Being around such a busy crowd was almost overwhelming. But like the fair itself, all the people were lovely. Amusement in the air was catching. All kinds of adults, some elders, a _lot_ of children, people about her own age or younger; with cats and dogs and birds and hens and even a few snakes moving beside them, or held in their arms, in slings, across their shoulders, anywhere close. Many of the carnival people had raccoons perched on their shoulders, and one had a different striped-tail creature with bright orange, round eyes that Lenalee didn’t know the name for. A lot of daemons were talking as well as their people. The voices mixed with songs in the air. A couple squawked or snorted, or even snarled if someone came too close to them.

As much as she was people-watching, she was aware that people were looking at her as well. Specifically, her eyes, and her light brown skin, still several shades darker than most people in the city. She did her best to not let the stares bother her. It wasn't anything new; there weren't many other Chinese people in this part of France, and especially since she'd became a young woman, people's gazes seemed to follow her everywhere. Ruìhán bared his teeth at anyone who's eyes lingered, at least.

Behind them, Komui had apparently given up on actually winning the game. He was now asking the stall attendant (with a bright-eyed cat lounging across her neck like a scarf) about the mechanics that controlled the snapping jaws of the little fish. Xiuying scratched at the ground, keeping her sharp eyes on their surroundings.

Lenalee smiled ruefully. _We’ll need to keep a watch out for snapping robots for the next while,_ she thought. Ruihan snorted into her shoulder.

Certain that her brother would be a while, she waved to Xiuying and walked along the side of the stall so her and Rui could people-watch in the other direction.  
There were less people here, but a better view of the town below the field. She started idly planning what other parts of the fair she wanted to see. An open-air trapeze artist had been boasting her courage and agility earlier, and her partner’s juggling skill; she'd said something about this end of the grounds, hadn't she?  
Her moment of reverie was broken when a dog barked sharply in the distance, and a family passed by all at once. The kids were racing each other and tripping on their bare feet, their daemons capering around them changing shape faster than Lenalee could catch.  
She stepped backwards quickly to let them all through. Cheerful, sugary faces smiled up at her as they rushed past. In the distance the dog’s determined barking continued. She wondered if it was part of a show.

  
In her arms, Ruihan tensed. She looked down at him, surprised. His rounded ears were up and alert. “What's wrong?”

“I think there's someone--” he said, then paused. After a moment of silence he started wriggling.

“-- _ow_!” She put him down quickly, clapping her sleeve over a couple scratches. “Watch your claws!”  
“Sorry,” he said hurriedly. He sat on his back haunches and listened hard for something, ignoring her when she hissed what was wrong. When he finally deigned to pay her attention again, it was to turn to her and put his claws on her shins-- not pressing enough to damage her skirt or boots, but enough that she noticed. “I think I heard someone,” he said urgently.  
“Someone-- who? What are you talking about?” She whispered down to him. She half-knelt to pick him up again but he ducked away from her hands. “What’s going on?”  
“Trust me! We need to follow them,” he insisted. “Follow me.”  
“Follow _where_ , you can’t just--”  
Before she could finish her reprimand though, Ruihan had turned away from her and skittered a few steps into the crowd. Not nearly far enough away for them to hurt, but far enough that she really did realize he wasn’t kidding. He looked back at her and barked once.  
Confused, she stumbled after him. “And don’t bark at me!’ She called after him crossly.

  
The crowd stepped out of their way or lifted their feet hurriedly as Ruihan pushed past. He led her through the circus, weaving around stalls and particularly mucky pathways, never getting far enough away to actually hurt either of them but still annoyingly out of reach and refusing to quit. People shot Lenalee dirty looks as they passed.She couldn’t spare more than a distracted placating smile shot at them while she kept her daemon within her field of vision.  They went past beer stands, the small travelling-house decked with mirrors that children played in, and a number of guess-the-number jar games, bright colours blurring.  
Lenalee only stopped when a feeling tugged at her mind; the one that meant her brother was in some kind of distress. She turned on her heel.  
Sure enough, there was Komui’s voice calling for her over the crowd. She saw him a second later. He was standing outside the fishing game’s stall, turning this way and that, shading his eyes, calling like a town crier. “Lenalee! Lenalee, dear, where’ve you gone?!”  
"I’m over here!” She answered, cupping her hand in front of her mouth. Komui’s eyes found hers immediately, and she sent an apologetic wave. “Don’t worry,” she assured him as she kept stepping backwards. She could feel that Ruihan had paused, and his impatience like a curled bristle in the corner of her mind. What could she say to Komui that wouldn't upset him? “I’ll see you soon!” Lenalee settled on.

“Lenalee! Wait, where are you _going_ \--?!”  
  
Wincing, she turned and slid into the crowd before her brother could finish his indignant cries. He and Xiuyang weren’t going to let them out of their sight for a week after this. Which was ridiculous, but there wasn’t any use arguing with him when he was in a frothing self-induced panic. Nothing to do now except follow-through.  
And where the Hell was her badger leading them too?

  
The crowd thinned out quickly after she’d shouldered and apologized her way through the main thoroughfare, the food lane, and the arts-and-crafts stalls. They were at the outskirts of the circus now. Only a handful of stalls, mostly empty, and two tents stood along the whole muddy lane.  
Lenalee took a second to orient herself.  
“Riuhan, I swear!” She called out as quietly as she could. She felt strange: a buzzing, electric feeling was sizzling along her skin, almost like when Ruihan was touching another daemon. But who's? If she could feel it this much he had to be somewhere nearby. “Where are you?”

“Here!” She heard him call, and her gaze snapped up immediately. His voice had rung out from inside the second worn canvas tent, undecorated, with a tear in a corner.  
There was no way they were supposed to be in there. ... but now _she_ was curious. Setting her shoulders, Lenalee walked over, lifted the loose portion of canvas and stepped inside.

It was brighter than she’d expected. Boxes, loose tarps, a couple bales of hay, buckets, and disorganized piles of wagon rope took up most of the space. In the moment her eyes took adjusting to the shadow, Lenalee started, “Rui, what on _earth—_ ”

Then she made out his shape on the ground, and her jaw hung open.

Beside a box stack in the middle of the room, Ruihan was sitting up on his haunches, pressing the side of his face against the neck of a collie Lenalee had never seen before.  
Even animals could tell daemons apart from their own kind; Lenalee didn't doubt for a moment what she was. ( _She_ , Lenalee knew instinctively, with no idea why.) The border collie's fur was mostly black, with dapples of white and speckled all over with grey; one of her ears had a corner bit off. Her eyes were bright, when she looked up at hearing Lenalee's voice, and strange; one black, one strikingly blue. She had laid on the ground to give Ruihan more cuddling room, her flyaway tail wagging furiously.

“... _Ruihan_?” Lenalee hissed when her voice worked again, half mortified and half-- half-- something.

He pulled away from the beautiful dog for a moment (she yipped an objection), and looked up at Lenalee with eyes like happy moons. “I told you I’d heard someone,” he said; more content than he’d sounded in a long time. “We just had to find them. You wouldn’t’ve listened to me.”

Lenalee felt her reply in her throat, then let it fail. She-- she probably wouldn’t have. Again, he was right. She had given up the thought of meeting a soulmate a long time ago. Her heart sped up, and heat rose to her cheeks. Everything suddenly felt like she was seeing it through fog.  
Which was a strange way to feel, wasn’t it? She thought distractedly. When daemons recognized their mate-- _your_ soulmate-- they knew each other immediately. It was supposed to be wonderful, hearts clicking into alignment; but Lenalee felt like she’d been hit by some great gust of wind she’d never thought to brace herself for.  
If the collie was here, then where was--? “Hello?” Lenalee called out, wincing when her voice shook audibly.. “Are you… there?”

 

“... uh,” someone croaked. Lenalee’s gaze snapped towards the noise.

A white boy was sitting on one of the boxes stacked up on the other side of the tent, several bright juggling balls scattered around the dirt and loose hay at his feet. He looked about her age, height-wise, although he was as thin as some of the beggar children in the city. Something looked strange about his hair. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but thick streaks of white ran through it, from scalp to end. Otherwise, it was a bright, rusty red. He’d tied it back in a messy ponytail, although hunks of it hung loose around the left half of his face. As she turned to him, he’d moved one of his arms quickly behind his back. His eyes were just as wide as hers.  
“This… isn’t a public tent,” he stammered, finally, rising to his feet.

“Right,” Lenalee agreed quickly, still feeling off-balance. “I know, I’m… I was just following him." Somehow embarrassed, she gestured towards Ruihan. On the ground. Cuddling with this boy’s daemon.  
Both her and Riuhan were watching them, eyes rounded and quiet.

The boy’s pale cheeks rosed. It was cute, Lenalee thought distractedly; it suited his snowy skin.  
He nodded, then nodded again, as if he didn’t know what to do.

 _Well, me neither,_ Lenalee thought. For some reason it made her feel calmer; at least she wasn’t the only one totally at sea here.

  
“I’m Lenalee Li,” she offered.  
“Allen,” the boy replied. He hesitated, then walked over so they were facing each other directly, and gestured to the collie. “Um. She’s Jester.”  
_Jester_? Lenalee smiled a little. Most daemons she knew had complicated names; she’d rarely heard one so silly and straightforwards.  
The collie nudged her and Ruihan's nudged their noses together. “We’re happy to find you,” she said. Her voice was rich and deep, and vaguely British; where Allen’s was higher, clear and almost scratchy. They balanced each other.  
Ruihan didn't reply immediately. Maybe he felt as lost for words as Lenalee, so she spoke up for both of them. "This is Ruihan," she said, only a bit awkward. "It’s… nice to meet you, too."  
Her and Allen stood in silence for a moment. Not knowing where to look, and not wanting to stare, Lenalee tried to keep her gaze politely on either her feet or the wall of the tent.

 

It was useless. She kept glancing back to Allen. His face was bright as an apple now; and since he’d walked closer, she thought his eyes looked blue. He was handsome, in a pretty way. A small thought, quick as a flash: _I hope he thinks I’m pretty._

Then something caught her eye and Lenalee blinked, taking a worried step closer. Allen’s bangs had shifted when he’d stood, and she could see now that he’d been hiding something behind them. Several thin scars carved down his cheek, criss-crossing just under his eye and again over his eyebrow. They were old but had healed strangely, ropy and dark as bruises against his pale face.  
_What on earth--_ Lenalee thought, even as a suspicion coiled in her head. Ruihan snarled softly from her ankle.

The quiet moment popped like a soap bubble, and three things happened very quickly:

Allen noticed her horrified look, or Ruihan’s growl, or both; his expression shuttered, blush fading, and he stepped backwards. Jester got up from her spot with Ruihan as well, smooth and quick, sticking close to her boy's side.  
Lenalee startled, blurting, “No, wait--" She reached out to him instinctively.   
Even though her hand was nowhere near him, Allen tensed, freezing stock still.

  
Lenalee stopped, worry blooming into a mess of pity, empathy and anger. Her suspicion had been right, and her stomach twisted with the knowledge. Who could’ve _done that_ to a child?  
She felt Riuhan shuffling himself around her ankles, like a pair of warm, clawed boots. His fur was bristly and coarse, but the feeling steadied her anyway. She dropped her hand, clutching her fists in her skirts so she didn’t reach out to him again on an impulse. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, “I-- I didn’t mean to startle you. It wasn’t like that. I can explain.” _Please don’t leave yet,_ she swallowed back down. They had only just met.

For a long moment she thought Allen was still going to bolt, but instead, he relaxed very slightly, shifting into a neutral stance instead of a hunted one. His expression was still cut-off and wary. Jester’s tail had stopped wagging.

That, more than anything, was awful _._ Lenalee swallowed, a low-level panic starting in her chest. She’d bought time, but what was she going to say?

  
An idea came to her. Taking another half-step further away, she started to quickly unbutton her over-dress.  
Allen broke his silence, sputtering; his cheeks turning red again. “That isn’t-- you don’t--”  
Lenalee paused, confused. She’d undone the buttons to just above her shoulder, the lapel now drooping sideways. Her blouse was still fine. “What do you mean?” She asked, frowning. Wait, had he thought--? Lenalee’s frown turned into a scowl, her face getting hotter indignantly. “What did you _think_ I was doing?”

“I don’t know!” Allen said defensively, throwing up his hands. “I just, you’re the one who--”  
He stopped. His eyes were on the scarred side of her neck, now visible above her blouse. Slowly, he put his hands down. “... oh.”  
His eyes flicked to hers, bright with something nameless.

Lenalee recognized it: a potent mix of shock, pity, concern, and the faintest light of hope. She smiled back, very slightly, hoping it didn't tremble as much as she felt like it did. She held her dress' lapel with one hand, her other going back to nervously clutching her skirt.  
Nervous and dry-mouthed, she explained. “When I was younger, I was in a church home for a while. All of us, the church's wards-- we had a formal service every Sunday and we took turns setting up the altar and putting it away. The nuns didn't keep any of it in the house, it was too valuable, so we put them in a locked shed that wasn't attached to the building. Um. I was in charge of the candles. One night I'd went outside later than the others, when it was dark enough I had to carry a lantern, and... there was a man waiting out there."  
Allen stiffened again, a fierceness shining in his eyes. She continued quickly. "He wanted to steal the altar pieces, but he saw me carrying the candlesticks, so-- so I had to fight him. It was terrifying." The was an understatement; her heart picked up speed like a frightened rabbit thinking of it, even now. She swallowed. "Eventually I did scare him off, but, I fell. The candles all snapped in two, and the oil from the lantern got everywhere...” She tugged at her lapel demonstratively. The leathery, discoloured skin started in spatters close to her jawline, thickening to a solid blot that dripped down to her clavicle and the top of her shoulder. “People came running, but I. It still took a while to heal.” Her eyes started to sting with remembered tears. She blinked them away quickly. The tent was shadowy, Allen wouldn’t notice, would he?  
“I understand,” she finished finally. “That’s all I meant to say. I’m... I'm sorry if that seems silly.”

  
Allen looked at her for a moment longer, complicated expressions running across his face. “I don’t think it’s silly,” he replied finally, voice softer than before.

The panic in Lenalee's heart eased. For a moment, it looked like all he was going to say, and that would've been fine;

But then he visibly made a decision, drawing his left hand out of his pocket. He held the entire arm stiffly, and for good reason; it looked charred, in the dim tent’s light, frozen into a hooked claw.  
_Oh_ , Lenalee thought, with a surge of affection for him.  
Shoulders tight, he held up his arm with his opposite hand, watching for her reaction. When all she did was nod with wide eyes, he seemed to relax the barest amount. “My arm’s been like this since I was born," he explained. "People usually don’t respond to it nicely.” He let go of his wrist and pulled his bangs back from his face, revealing his scars more clearly. “I was… about ten.”

Lenalee nodded again, “That’s awful,” she said; only to regret it a second later when her voice was choked up. The tears she'd blinked away were welling up again, faster than she could stop them.

Allen shrugged, a small, bitter smile on his lips. “It’s not so bad anymore,” he said, eyes downcast.

 _That doesn’t mean it’s good,_ Lenalee wanted to argue, but her tears had started in earnest and wouldn’t stop falling. She turned sideways and tried to scrub her face while he wasn’t watching. It was frustrating; her fingers were still covered with salt from the peanuts, and her palms and sleeves with dirt from picking up Ruihan. _Damn it._ She bit her lip to keep from sniffling out loud.

“Hey, what's-- are you okay?!”

His voice went higher still; Lenalee glanced over to see his eyes wide. The change in his voice and expression was so fast it almost surprised Lenalee's tears to a stop. He stepped forwards, alarmed, and stopped himself; hovering like she had only minutes before. “Please, there’s really no need--” Flustered, he started patting at the pockets on his jacket and trousers. "Here, I think I have--"

 

Before he could finish the sentence, or Lenalee could upset herself more, light flooded into the tent and a voice with a melodic British accent floated to them. “You in here, my boy?”  
“Mana!” Allen turned quickly, relief flashing across his face. Jester’s tail started wagging again; she even jumped onto her back legs a couple times, knocking into Allen. The boy brushed off the nudges like he was long used to it, even though she must have been heavy under all her fur.  
_He must be pretty strong,_ a treacherous part of Lenalee’s brain observed, which she steadfastly refused to acknowledge.  
Lenalee let go of her sleeve and peered around them both, curiously. At her feet, Riuhan stretched his neck forwards to do the same.

A man had stepped into the tent, a paint-smeared rag in one hand and some water dripping off his cheek. His suit, long coat, and top hat had been clean and well-made once, maybe even noble, but were now too shabby and wrinkled to be anything except a travelling outfit. As he let the tent’s canvas fall back in place behind him, his face became clearer. He seemed to be around his fifties; he had an angular jaw, strong nose, thin beard and mustache, and light brown olive skin.  
The man didn’t look much at all like Allen, Lenalee thought, but he was certainly old enough to be his father. More importantly, he seemed kind. His face was set in a gentle expression; a smile faint on his lips, like he’d remembered a joke someone had told a few moments ago. His brown eyes were warm. When he saw Allen, they filled with open, frank relief.

As he noticed someone else was in the tent, they flickied to her, and grew slightly guarded.  
Lenalee stood up a bit straighter, ready to apologise and introduce herself; but then the man's expression shifted. He looked curious, and... like something was funny? His eyebrow quirked and he looked back at Allen.

 

Whatever he said next, Lenalee didn't hear. She was distracted by the two animals that'd scurried in the tent behind him.  
She’d glanced automatically to the ground beside him to look for his daemon, since one wasn’t perched or curled on him, at about the same time a small dog trotted up. A beagle, about average size, with off-white fur and rusty red patches. It seemed familiar somehow. Lenalee couldn't quite place why, though-- and then something _strange_ scampered in behind it. It was about the same size as the beagle, but weirdly pink and grey, like mottled skin, and seemed _scaled;_ horse-like ears and pointed face, and a tail like a striped rat.  
Drawing back instinctively, confused and a bit grossed out, Lenalee only paused as a wave of surprised recognition rolled over to her from Ruihan. _He's his daemon_ , Ruihan said, glancing up at her with his black eyes wide.  
Oh. Oh, no. Lenalee mentally kicked herself, ashamed of her reaction. People didn't control how their daemon settled, and-- it wasn't unheard of for people's daemons to be the same gender as them. Of course, it still wasn't _usual._ She was just surprised: they’d never seen anything like him.

  
Allen yelped, “Hey, it’s-- it’s not like that!”  
Lenalee blinked, looking up hurriedly and tuning back into the conversation. Apprehension and embarassment had replaced relief on Allen's face. The man was laughing, the sound rolling out of him like a rushing brook.  
“Can you just give her a towel or something, already?” Allen snapped defensively.

“Not because you talked like that,” Allen's father replied smartly when his laughter died down. Still, he turned to Lenalee with a smile. “Apologies for my son, miss. I thought I'd raised him better than to make young ladies cry within moments of meeting them. Or at least, to be enough of a gentleman to offer her a kerchief.” He winked conspiratorially on the side of his face Allen couldn't see. Allen sputtered indignantly again.  
Lenalee swallowed a laugh, wanting to not make Allen more embarassed than he was already. Her smile still got slightly wider despite herself. “It’s alright, sir, he’s really. Um. It’s no problem,” she managed.  
He cocked his head, studying her face. Whatever he was looking for must’ve been acceptable. He nodded at her. “It’s still a matter of pride,” he said seriously. “I think I have one of my own you can use.”  
With a deceptively casual motion, he pulled a handkerchief fluidly from his shirt sleeve. And kept pulling. It was to a colourful string of others so numerous that Lenalee didn't know how he'd managed to fit all of them in his coat; by the time he shook a final one into his open hand and stepped forwards to pass it to her, Lenalee was laughing out loud, delighted.  
Riuhan bristled as the man neared them. He was always more suspicious of strangers. Any suspicion had vanished from Lenalee's mind now, though; Allen trusted him, for one thing. “Thank you,” she managed through her giggles as she accepted it.  
Mr. Mana positively beamed. His smile seemed to stretch wider than a usual one would, ending at both sides of his face. It might’ve been unsettling, she thought, if he wasn't so open and kind to begin with. “Not a worry at all, dear.”

 

Lenalee sneaked a look back at Allen from behind the handkerchief. The boy was still blushing; now she could see amusement under all the fluster though. He caught Lenalee’s peek, and rolled his eyes where Mr. Mana couldn’t see him. Lenalee held back another giggle.

“May I ask your name?” Mr. Mana asked politely when she’d finished wiping her face.  
“Oh—of course. I’m Lenalee Li,” she said hurriedly. After she’d handed him back the kerchief, she nearly put her hand out to shake his as well, then remembered herself. Instead she smiled while holding onto the side of her skirt in a strange pre-curtsy. _Jerry would be embarrassed for me_ , she thought, a little annoyed at herself. Usually she was more poised than this. Still: “It’s, um. It’s nice to meet you, sir.”  
His smile got warmer. “Miss Lenalee. I’m Mana Walker, it’s lovely to meet you too.” He lifted his hat and gave a perfunctory bow, his daemon scampering by at his feet.

 _Don’t stare, it’s rude,_ Lenalee reminded herself. Instead she focused her gaze on the beagle, who was sniffing out the corners of the tent to the side of Mr. Mana, and Riuhan who was still twined around her feet.

“What's brought you here today, Miss Lenalee?” Mr. Mana asked brightly when he’d straightened up again. His eyes were pointed and analytical.

Suddenly self-conscious, Lenalee ran her hand over her hair to try and flatten it. “Well, my brother and I saw the flyers around town a few days ago--”  
“Absolutely,” he agreed, interrupting. “My apologies; I meant, how'd you and my son--” He gestured to Allen, “Meet?”  
_Especially here,_ he seemed to imply. In an isolated, dark space, together, with her dress undone to her neck.  
Lenalee felt her cheeks darken. It wasn't even the assumption that bothered her; it was a natural question to ask. But anything about daemons was very... _private_. Everyone knew that. It’d almost be _less_ embarrassing if they'd-- not that Lenalee _would’ve,_ but--

Allen was overcome by a coughing fit from Mr. Mana’s other side. The man’s gaze flickered from her face, rapidly glowing like a sunrise on copper, to Allen’s, whose face had now moved beyond apples and slid into plum territories. “Hm?”  
Lenalee felt her gaze drawn to Allen’s face, as if magnetically, to find that he was also looking at her with something like stars in his eyes.

It was Jester, circled around Allen’s feet, who finally answered. "We met," she said, simply, her head held high.  
Ruihan echoed her in agreement, uncurling himself from Lenalee's ankle and sitting on his hind legs in front of her. "We did."

 

Lenalee could actually pinpoint the second Mr. Mana understood. The mild suspicious tension on his face vanished as his eyes widened. “Allen?!” He cried out delightedly, clapping his hands together.  
Allen’s face was still burning. “I--” He stammered again. Lenalee didn’t blame him; she couldn’t talk either.  
Mr. Mana set into peals of laughter again and swept Allen into a hug.  
On the ground, the beagle started barking joyfully, scrambling in circles around the both of them. Mr. Mana’s daemon started laughing as well; like his human, the little creature’s laugh went on and on; joyfully squeaky and high-pitched.  
Jester’s mismatched ears pinned back at the sound. “Quit it,” she whined.  
But he kept laughing, and then did something both odd and very human. He heaved himself onto his back legs, balanced just enough to brace his long digging claws onto the sides of his daughter-daemon’s face, barely rumpling her puffy flyaway fur, and kissed her right on the nose. He said something which  
His human was acting similarly. He'd let out another truly great laugh and had swept Allen into a hug, holding him tightly and then leaning back to kiss him squarely on the forehead. “Congratulations,” he said, grinning, affectionately rustling an absolute rat’s nest into Allen’s hair. “I've been hoping I'd get to see this day with you, Allen!”  
“Mana, seriously--”

  
At that moment in the chaos, the beagle seemed to catch sight of Lenalee; it scrambled over a couple of the boxes to include her in the proceedings as well.  
Lenalee laughed as the small bundle of fur jumped forwards and landed in the earth at her feet, balancing on its short hind legs and barking hopefully. The awkwardness she’d felt at watching Mr. Mana and Allen, out of place in the family joy, evaporated for the moment. She crouched down to pet it-- there wasn't any more harm mud could do to her dress, it was covered already. “One of my friends would be super jealous if he knew you were here,” she told it as she scritched behind its long ears.

“Red, leave her alone!” Allen’s exasperated voice said.

Lenalee looked up and felt suddenly light-headed, realizing Allen had knelt down in the muck just in front of her. He'd taken hold of the beagle-- Red-- around the middle. Their hands were nearly touching, tangled in the dog’s rusty fur. “Sorry,” he said, “He's usually a lot better about people--”  
“It's alright, he's really no bother at all. I love dogs,” Lenalee replied quickly. Though she did self-consciously pull back from Red so that Allen could scoop him up.

They stood at the same time. Allen was only a few centimetres taller than her, up closer like this; and his eyes turned out to be a lighter than she’d thought. They were a very pale blue, almost gray; like the sky in the early morning, separated by thin wisps of cloud or rising smog.  
  
Thankfully, Lenalee didn't have time to blurt something else unthinkingly. Mr. Mana appeared in front of her, all smiles and sparkling eyes. “My dear,” He said sincerely, offering his palm. When she took it, a little confused, he folded her hand between both of his. “Welcome!”  
Lenalee blinked, a little off-balance by the formal greeting, but warmed by his enthusiastic acceptance anyway. “I-- thank you,” she managed. Everything seemed to swirl, from her point of view, bright and confusing but _welcome,_ absolutely.

 

Cool air suddenly rushed against the back of her neck. Reflexively, she let go of Mr. Mana's handshake, turning to look.

 

A familiar beak was poking through the tent flap behind her. Xiùyīng’s head followed a second later. The crane blinked for a moment, saw Lenalee, squawked, and with a flurry of motion shoved her way past the loose canvas as well.  
Komui flailed in directly behind her (Xiuying neatly sidestepped him). “Lenalee--! _Lenalee!_ ” Her melodramatic brother gasped out, hair out from his cap and in a disarray, glasses nearly hanging off one ear. When he clapped eyes on her he practically threw himself onto her shoulders, clinging and pressing his face into her hair. “My dear Lenalee,” he cried, “Where have you _been_?! It’s been so long since I saw you leave off through the crowd, we’ve been looking _everywhere--_ ”

 _It can’t have been longer than half an hour,_ Lenalee thought, feeling her whole face flush, this time from annoyance and embarrassment. The rest of the noise in the tent had hushed to take in this weird display. “Komui,” she hissed under her breath, even as she reached up and hugged his shoulder instinctively, “I’m fine, there are other people here--”

Her brother paused in his lamentations, then straightened up, still with his arms around Lenalee’s shoulder, and took note of the four others in the room.”Well. Hello,” he started. Then: “What on earth is _that_?!” Komui blurted, eyes having fallen on Mr. Mana's daemon standing in the dirt.

Lenalee felt herself tugged back as he instinctively stepped away from this potential threat, pulling her with him in one movement.  
She froze, mortified. “ _Komui--_ ”  
Allen seemed as startled as Lenalee had been with the view of the newcomer. His shock was quickly turning to offense and anger, though. Jester had turned towards him, her ears pinning back and a growl forming on her face.

Mr. Mana seemed somehow unphased. “No idea!” Mr. Mana said brightly, as if he hadn't heard any of their other reactions. “But I've been taking to calling him ‘Phil’. Or Phillipus if we need a bit more flare. I am Mana Walker, travelling clown,” he added, taking off his top hat and sweeping it in front of himself as he bowed, lower and with more drama than when he’d introduced himself to Lenalee.  
Phillipus, by his feet, did something incredible and perfectly timed: he popped into a ball, as simple as a suitcase folding over, and rolled a semi-circle around Mr. Mana before unrolling himself properly again, as smooth around as you like, at the same time as Mr. Mana brought his tophat back up to his chest.  
He placed it primly back on his head. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said politely, a hint of pointedness in his tone.

 

Lenalee couldn't see her brother's face, but she recognized the tone of voice he had when blinking rapidly in confusion. “Oh? I mean, yes. Of course, yours as well."

Impatient, Lenalee extricated herself from her brother’s hold and then stepped to the side, so all of them were now standing in a semi-circle in the tent. Ruihan shuffled to lean against her ankle again. “I'm sorry. This is my older brother, Komui,” she said to Mr. Mana and Allen. “He--” _Worries a lot,_ was what she was going to say.

“Ah!” Mr. Mana waved off her apology on her brother’s behalf before she could finish it. He stepped forwards with his palms open, beaming. “So you _are_ related to the young lady! Wonderful, wonderful.” He seized Komui’s hand and shook it warmly, laughing his bubbling laugh again. “It’s good to meet someone who’s known her for so long. She must be very lovely to be with my son!”

Both Lenalee and Allen stiffened, their backs going straight.  
  
Komui had shook Mr. Mana’s hand as well, possibly out of instinct, but now his mouth gaped like a carp’s. “What do you…?” He looked over Mr. Mana’s shoulder, to Lenalee, then to Allen and Jester and then Ruihan at her feet, then back to Allen. His eyebrows nearly dissapeared under his cap as he understood.

”Well--” Komui’s eyes swept over the scene again, now glinting in that sharply critical way that they usually took during his work.

 _Oh_ , Lenalee thought as vivid memories of her brother's reactions to any innocent stories about boys she'd ever told him ran through her mind, _no_.  
This was it. This was when he and Xiuying would pull her and Rui out of the circus and never let them leave the apartment again.  
Internal panic froze her. Instinctively, she moved towards Allen, just one step that was easily hidden in her skirts. A moment later she would’ve felt silly for it but Allen had stepped closer to her, too; she could feel the sudden heat from his shoulder nearer to hers. Her heart soared, despite her fear.

“Well,” Komui said again, puffing like a frog. Lenalee winced, before-- “Of course! My dear sister is the most wonderful girl there is!”

Lenalee’s eyes snapped open in surprise. Beside her, Allen’s jaw dropped.

Of course Komui didn’t stop there. As Lenalee took her turn to gape like a fish, he’d righted his glasses and cap and was gaining steam, waving his arms around passionately with light somehow glimmering off of his glasses (maybe through a rip in the tarp?) as he expounded on Lenalee’s many, exaggerated virtues.  
Xiuying fluffed her feathers and tossed her beak from where she stood behind him, performing elaborate pride as well.

It would’ve been even more embarassing than the whole incident was to begin with, except the target of Komui’s tirade was laughing delightedly. Mr. Mana had leaned back with his hand over his chest, getting in encouraging words whenever he could.

Lenalee began to laugh herself, helplessly and maybe a little hysterically. She felt something nudge her shins and looked down to see Ruihan on his hind legs, pawing up at her. “Why does he _do this_ ,” he said, exasperated.  
“I know,” she told him, “I can’t tell either, he’s just…” She wiped her eyes which had somehow started watering.

  
“Is-- is your brother always like this?” Allen asked under his breath, leaning close enough to her that their cheekbones nearly touched.

Lenalee leaned in towards him, giddy relief making her relax more than she would have otherwise. “Yeah,” she whispered back to him. “Not-- not always, but. Whenever he gets really strong feelings about something.” Their shoulders and upper arms pressed together warmly, like hands during applause.

Allen startled for a moment and Lenalee froze, an apology right behind her lips, but after a second of hesitating (and a bump that Lenalee was pretty sure came from Jester, nudging the back of his legs) he leaned back in as comfortably as if he’d always been there.  
It was a little embarassing how happy that made her. She only hoped Allen felt the same way.

 

Not even her brother could expound on someone’s excellent character and talents forever; eventually he started to wind down.  
Lenalee took the opportunity to step forwards quickly, Ruihan stepping with her.

To her surprise, Allen stepped forwards beside her. They glanced at each other; Lenalee nodded slightly, letting him know he could go first.

“Have you seen much of the carnival?” Allen asked Komui, his tone polite and careful in a way it hadn’t been when it was just her and Mana in the tent with him.  
Komui turned his sharp, analytical eyes onto Allen, then to Jester and back to him.  
Lenalee loved her brother. At that particular moment, she found herself particularly, fiercely thankful for who he was, as well: his eyes didn’t linger on Allen’s burnt hand or scarred face, just accepted them as he would anything else. (Maybe it was because, working those years in an electricity and chemical processing factory, Komui would’ve seen more people with injuries or burns than without.) “Some,” he allowed, still squinting somewhat suspiciously through his glasses at the young man.  
Mr. Mana glanced at him too, curious.

Allen's smile went to his eyes, crinkling the corners. It made the connection between him and Mana clear suddenly, in Lenalee’s head. Their smiles were exactly the same. She thought it looked lovelier on Allen’s face, but-- that wasn’t anything to be thinking about.  
“I just ask, because, we have some time before our next performance,” he said, turning his head so he was talking to Mana, and then to Lenalee. (Was it her imagination, or was he still a bit pink in the face when he looked at her?) “I’d-- like very much to take you around, if you want. There’s a lot to see,” he continued quickly, maybe picking up on the slight expression shift on Komui’s face. “The Moondrop’s busiest right about now until our evening’s shows over. It can all be pretty chaotic,” he said with a bit of a laugh in his voice. “But I can promise you won’t miss any of the best; plus, it’s more of a bargain for your pennies,” he added.  
“He does know his way around everything,” Mr. Mana said approvingly, smiling at Allen.  
Allen positively glowed at the praise, Lenalee noticed; though it seemed like he was trying to keep most of it off his face. If Lenalee hadn’t been right beside him, she probably wouldn’t’ve seen at all. The idea sounded wonderful to her.

Komui seemed unsure. “I-- Mr. Walker, we wouldn’t want to take away from your time,” he said. He glanced at Lenalee in a way he probably thought was furtive. He’d folded his hands in front of his chest. Behind him, Xiuying scratched at the ground, her feathers still puffed and rattled.  
“It’s not a problem,” Mr. Mana said genially, waving the notion away with his hand again. “Allen and I are very skilled at juggling tasks. And please, we’re practically family; you can call me Mana.”  
At the pun, an uncertain but there nonetheless smile quirked onto Komui’s face. He glanced over at Lenalee again.

  
There was something off about her brother’s gaze, she realized suddenly; like tears behind his eyes. It tugged at the feeling that told her if he was in trouble, and it felt like sorrow somehow. Her first, oldest instinct was to hug him and ask what was wrong. But she really did want to see more of the fair. And spend time with Allen, and Jester; just a bit longer.

(It occurred to her with a jolt that the carnival would be moving on soon-- but no, no. _You can’t think like that, Lenalee. If you dwell on problems you’ll drown in them._ )

She must have been quiet too long. She only came back to the moment when she heard a gentle, “Lenalee, dear?”  
Everyone was looking at her, Xiuying peeking around her brother's elbow.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, blinking rapidly to try and shake herself out of the thoughts. “I-- yes, if that’s alright, I’d. I’d like that very much.” She didn’t look at Allen while she said it, but decided to risk a quick glance from the periphereal of her vision. He looked surprised, maybe, but happy. Good. Okay, good. Her heart could stop the strange jittering any time now, thank you.

Mr. Mana clapped once, firmly. “That settles it, then! You two young people go off on an adventure. Us old folks will go have a tea from the marketstalls.”  
\-- alone? Lenalee blinked in shock, her stomach doing something strange as excitement, nerves and surprised mixed together.  
Allen looked similarly flabbergasted, but Jester had stood from where she’d been resting on the floor during the conversation and her tail was sweeping behind her like a chimney brush. Riuhan snorted in response, a happy sound.

"... very well," Komui said. Xiuying called softly. Her brother, when Lenalee looked up at him, was smiling at her; slightly strained but not entirely so. Not like he got when he was really upset, and not like when he got dramatically and almost (though she felt awful and ungrateful for even thinking it) performatively into a tizzy over some small thing. The weird look was back in his eye. But maybe she was just imagining it.

 

 

“I’ll meet you over by the bigtop tent, when the sun starts to set,” Komui said as they all stepped into the full-day light. Xiuying busied herself preening anxiously behind him.

Mr. Mana was adjusting his top hat and looking up into the light, beaming. He dug a small object out of his long coat and turned to the tent again, as if he was writing something. Allen stood beside him, looking between his father and Lenalee with a smile, hands in his pockets. Jester wove around his feet excitedly, an infinity loop of collie dog.

“And if anyone tries to talk to you when you don’t want them to--”

“Break their knees,” Lenalee finished, cracking a smile at the macabre advice, which somehow felt warm now when only a couple hours earlier it'd been smothering. “I remember, Komui.”

"Good. Perfect."

They probably would’ve hesitated longer, except Mr. Mana turned back from whatever he’d been drawing on the tent and shooed her and Allen gently away.

 

Lenalee felt strangely vulnerable walking away from Komui, even though she spent most of every single day away from him. It was silly. When they’d turned a corner, she still asked Allen to wait a moment while she crouched down to pick up Ruihan, holding him closely to her chest.  
Ruihan minded his claws as best as he could and lifted his head to nudge under her chin. His dry, leathery nose and silent assurance settled her heart, like an anchor point, as it always had. (Ever since the long mornings after the burns, when she’d woke up from her deliriousness to feel him laid out on her chest protectively, not changing form once over a long day.)  
It calmed her enough that she could smile at the boy she’d been connected to all her life without knowing it.

Allen smiled back at her. He looked a bit more put-together now. Both because she finally saw him in full light, and because before they'd left the tent he'd pulled on a pair of well-worn gloves, rolled down his shirt-sleeves, and carded some kind of pomade through his bangs that left them stiff over his face. With his scarred arm and the scarred part of his face hidden, he looked like a fine young gentleman. Although, one with strangely dappled hair and clothes that had overall seen better days, a smudge of white greasepaint-- stark even against his pale skin-- along the line of his jaw.

Distracted. Lenalee reached to his face, then quickly gestured at her own instead. (She'd re-buttoned the neck of her dress before leaving the privacy of the tent, as well. It made her face even warmer now to think that she’d done _that;_ no matter how much sense it'd made at the time. It was hardly proper.) “You, um. You have something there.”  
She glanced away, not wanting him to feel like she was staring, and then managed a smile again. "So. Where to first?"

He rubbed his hand through his hair and laughed sheepishly. “I, uh. Was going to ask you? What do you want to see?”

  
Lenalee thought for a moment. "I’d like to see any more food stalls that might be here,” she decided. “Especially anything sweet?” A girl could hope.

Allen grinned. "Yeah! We definitely have that,” he said, gesturing with a nod. “The best stall is Jun’s, she has these sweet rice things on a stick? Over by the drinks and the peanuts.”

The section of the carnival where he’d gestured was packed, though not quite as much as the main aisle. Now that Lenalee was paying attention, she could find the hint of delicious burnt caramel in the air. “That sounds really nice,” she said.

Allen nodded in return. Seeming almost shy, he offered her his hand.  
It was only then Lenalee realized they hadn’t actually touched yet, at all. His palm did look very inviting.  
At their feet, she was conscious of Jester leaning across the space between them to whuff an encouragement to Ruihan. Extremely careful not to touch Lenalee, but encouraging her, as well. Lenalee felt it again when she did: that warm buzzing on her soul, like lightning.

Well. Well, okay. Lenalee took Allen’s hand; his glove was soft, and warmth radiated through it.  
As consolation, she reminded herself that Allen was red in the face too, and it was _definitely_ more noticeable on him. Lenalee bit her lip slightly to keep from teasing him about it.

 

They set off together into the bright chaos of the circus.

 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allen and Lenalee, probably: "Small talk is for posers, rate your current level of existential dread from 1 to 10, let’s be emotionally intimate forever starting now"
> 
> Other notes:  
> 1), Fun fire fact! Kerosene was a common lamp fuel in the 1890s, moreso than whale, olive or other vegetable oils. While getting burns from whale or vegetable oils wouldn't be great, it's unlikely for lamps fueled with them to cause permanent injuries if spilled because they just don't get hot enough. Kerosene however, being petroleum-based, would fuck your shit right up.
> 
> 2), Mana wasn't perfect, but he was a good father who loved Allen, and anyone who disagrees can meet me outside the 7-11 in twenty minutes if they want an ass-kicking.
> 
> 3), Daemon pictures as follows:  
> -Lenalee's is a badger, specifically an [Asian badger](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/00/62/88/0062881494dcc474d7ccf7d18dfcdd91.jpg), because by contractual obligation every daemon AU fic I write has to have at least one. They're good animals, Brent  
> -Allen's is a mottled collie; [this collie](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/21/6f/07/216f070d91c905c47ff8d12e33e98337.jpg) specifically, which I ran into while wandering through Pinterest and could not believe my luck at finding one so obviously perfect. Her name's Jester because I thought 'Clown' was a bit too on the nose.  
> -Mana's daemon is a [nine-banded armadillo](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/34/fd/98/34fd9829e500b8ae3a3f5c36eb634c11.jpg)! Additional thank you to Cat for his name. I considered giving him Red The Beagle as a daemon instead, but I liked the idea of him having this weird, outlandish one and then also having a regular beagle he travelled everywhere with, so everyone thinks the dog is his daemon at first and then are Surprised (as Lenalee was here). And, interestingly, nine-banded armadillos have a trick of biology where they always give birth to two pairs of identical twins.  
> -Komui's daemon is a [demoiselle crane](https://500px.com/photo/22470559/great-hair-day-by-brian-masters), who are known for their extremely difficult migratory journeys and close family groups.
> 
> Second fun fact: If this had been a canon-except-with-daemons AU, Allen and Mana would've been the same, but Lenalee's and Komui's would've settled as a [golden eagle](https://www.flickr.com/photos/edpost/2255390476/), and a white-naped [crane](https://500px.com/photo/69748419/white-naped-crane-by-john-paul-stanisic) respectively.  
> Riuhan would want to be a larger, more intimidating form to try and protect Lenalee, given all of the horrible shit he and Lena went through at the hands of the Order, and because they both needed to be able to fly. Xiuyung's form I picked because I still think Komui would be a crane, but demoiselles tend to be..... eaten...... by golden eagles. So. White-naped cranes, on the other hand, are too large to have many natural predators, other than humans.  
> 


	3. When I'm Drinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's a Soulmate Goose Of Enforcement AU! Bird college, which is for birds,,  
> Chapter warnings: light references to drinking.  
> I have no idea where this fantastic soulmate trope came from, but the term 'pinefeather geese' I took from [this fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14661636), 'Honk Honk Fall in Love' by Lumeleo. (Which, if you're reading this, hello! If you want me to change or take out the pinefeather use specifically, just let me know and I will be happy to. Thank~)  
> Also used: "fortify', in the sense of [this post](https://blueflowerwine.tumblr.com/post/140538133564/phantom-locked-ontopofgravity-i-asked-one-of).
> 
> Happy new year! ❤❤  
> ~

“You should really go over and just talk to her, y’know,” Lavi hollered into Allen’s ear over the music’s thrum. He’d looped a companionable, restraining arm around Allen’s shoulders. His breath smelled like the peach and lime daiquiri sloshing around in his other hand, which he gestured with towards Lenalee, who was sitting with Emilia on the opposite end of the student union’s bar. The lights glimmered over Lenalee hair and shone rainbows into her earrings, highlighting her glossy lips as she smiled at something the other young woman had told her. 

Allen took another sip of his plain soda and resolutely ignored his friend. “I already told you, I’m not going to bother her, she’s talking with Emilia,” he said firmly.

“Who’s bothering? Alma invited all of us, and anyway we’re her friends too, yeah?” Lavi’s voice was getting progressively louder. “You’ve been sighing into your drink for like twenty minutes already, it’s-- _oof_ \--” Allen had elbowed him sharply in the ribs. “—it’s painful,” he finished weakly, his eye watering when Allen turned on his stool to glare at him. 

“And hitting with your prosthetic is cheating,” he said, mock-offended, as he got his breath back. “That thing is _heavy._ ” 

“Then don’t stand behind me on that side,” Allen shot back, scowling when Lavi just laughed.

A moment later he’d straightened up again, taken a strengthening drink of his daiquiri, and sent Allen a winning smile; which softened into something realer, to Allen’s surprise and growing dread. “Look, everyone can tell you’re sweet on each other,” Lavi said with his voice lowered, leaning forwards into Allen’s space so they nearly clocked foreheads. (Allen winced at the vermouth breath. Honestly.) “It’s practically an open secret at this point. She’s not going to turn you down—and even if she did, you’ve been friends for _eons_ . It’s not gonna matter. So why not stop _mooning_ and just fortify and go ask her already?”

Allen felt himself flush angrily. Who even said ‘mooning’ as an emotion thing anymore? “She’s my friend.” Allen enunciated clearly in case the alcohol had affected Lavi’s hearing. He put his glass down more firmly than was probably necessary, and it clanked loudly; the bartender on the register nearby glanced at him. He offered a wan smile and waved his hand, _sorry; not a big deal_. “Just leave it, Lavi,” he muttered.

Lavi stared him down for another moment. It actually lasted long enough that Allen started paranoidly wondering if his friend was even that drunk. But finally he rocked backwards on his feet, rolling his eye as if Allen was personally out to aggravate him on an individual level. “Fine, suit yourself, sadsack. I’m going to hang out with the ladies-- join us if you feel like having fun some point tonight, yeah?” His friend saluted with his drink and wandered off through the crowded tables.

Allen scowled at his back.  
  


Even annoyed as he was, he still kept track of Lavi’s meanderings across the crowded roomuntil he’d arrived over at Lenalee and Emilia’s side. His bright head of briars was easy to spot, at least.

Lavi announced himself by sliding smoothly onto the third stool at their small, high table and then nearly toppling off of it.  
Allen burst out laughing, not strictly kindly. Lenalee’s reflex catch of their flailing friend was impressive; when he’d righted himself, Allen relaxed a little, turning back to his own drink. This place was pretty safe but it never hurt to be sure. 

He waved over the bartender again. “Refill, please.”  
“Driving tonight, huh?” The guy asked as he pulled a two-litre from under the bar. He was wearing eye makeup which had either dripped down form triangles on his cheekbones in the humidity, or had been painted there on purpose. It looked almost like harlequin marks.  
Allen smiled at him, nodding. “Always.”  
The guy grinned and handed him back his drink. “Don’t worry about it,” he added as Allen reached for his wallet. He gestured towards a sign just below the huge TV playing a soccer game on the near wall. “Designated drivers drink free.”  
Hey, Allen was always a fan of a deal. “Thanks,” he said. He took his now re-filled glass and toasted the man. 

In the background, Lenalee’s melody of a laugh rang out. Allen started to sigh, then bit it back, taking a long drink instead.

  
  


At the other end of the bar, Lenalee automatically did a quick scan for her group. Lavi was trying to turn his charm on Emilia, who was laughing too much to take it at all seriously, and Alma had somehow convinced Kanda into the dancing section with him. The corner, and they were hardly dancing as much as Alma was pogoing on the spot and Kanda was watching them with his arms crossed, but still. Lenalee smiled at them, then turned to look for Allen. He was still at the other end of the bar, and as she looked, he tipped his head back and drank.  
She quickly looked back to her own glass, her face warming.

Like he had some sort of internal sensor of her shifting attention, Lavi swiveled on the stool he’d appointed himself to and slung his arm around her shoulder. She half-hugged him back, amused. “You should put that  down before you spill it!” She told him over the music. Her own wine-mix (light desert white kind and a whole bunch of fruit juice) she’d set carefully in the middle of the small table before he’d walked over.  
Lavi paused for a second, then nodded and (thankfully) put his glass farther from the edge of the table. “Lenalady!” He said, with his funny little half-smile that always suggested to her he was less drunk than he was acting. He tipped their heads together so she could hear him over the music. “You should really just go over there and talk to him, y’know…”

 

*

  
_Taptaptap._

 

An annoying sound was rattling the edge of Allen’s consciousness. Grumbling in its vague direction, he rolled over and tried to yank his covers back up over his head. 

His brain still felt like it’d gotten dropkicked. The music and the colourful commentary that’d been blasting out of the TV speakers in the bar last night had rattled his eardrums after a couple of hours, and the effects were sticking. The universe seemed to enjoy punishing him that way. If all his friends had hangovers, then he had to feel like he had one too.  Which was, if anyone was going to ask him, deeply unfair because he hadn’t drunk a damn thing except for the soda that Daisya had kept pouring him the night before.

Lavi had teased him about learning the guy’s name, but who _didn’t_ after sitting five feet in front of someone for an entire night, really? It would’ve been rude. Plus, though Lavi wasn’t wrong about him being hot, Allen wasn’t currently interested in dating or hooking up with anyone (who wasn’t-- well-- anyway). As his friend and dorm roommate damn well knew.

 _  
Taptaptap. Taptaptap.  
_What was the _noise_?

 

“I’ve _really_ had it,” he grumbled out loud. He was trying to hide from the sun as much as he could, but thin rays filtered through their pull-down blind anyway, staining the wall. By the slant of them, it was sometime in the morning still. Maybe around noon? People were trying to _sleep.  
_Groaning, Allen rolled away from the wall and off of his bed, untangling himself from his blanket cocoon as he blearily looked for whatever fan Lavi had left on that was now ticking brokenly or something. “Lavi! What the hell’ve you--”  
He paused, one foot still caught up in his blankets, and looked with confusion at his friend.

On the other side of their small room, Lavi had now rolled over and peered at Allen, his coarse hair sticking up like a static electricity experiment. He slurred very intelligently, “Wuzzarolem?”  
Nothing on Lavi’s side of the room was moving except him. The unexplained, sharp, repeated sound continued.  
“What _is_ that,” Allen repeated, this time out loud, more confused than exasperated now. “You hear that?” 

_Taptaptap._

“... yeah.” Over the top of his own cocoon, Lavi’s eye narrowed. (The other side of his face narrowed as well, sightless and a bit ugly. Its bundle of scar tissue, left from the surgery years back that’d removed his right eye and some bone from the bridge of his nose, were usually covered by his eyepatch when he was awake. The effect could be kind of alarming if you weren’t used to it. But Allen had been Lavi’s roommate for nearly their whole undergrad now, and didn’t give it a second thought.) His gaze swept the room as he caterpillar-shuffled himself into sitting upright. It settled on the corner window that faced the outside of their dorm building, and in the middle distance, the other residence attached by the long cafeteria hallway. “Something’s at the window?” He said finally.

Allen turned to follow his friend’s gaze, contorting his body so he didn’t have to further untangle his feet from the blankets (and wincing slightly; he hadn’t stretched yet). The insistent tapping _did_ seem to be coming from behind the blinds.

Well, Lavi wasn’t going to get up and check it out any time soon. 

 

He cursed twice under his breath as he hopped around to free his foot, then crossed to the window and pulled the blinds up. (Carefully, so the ancient chord didn’t snap, although he really felt like just yanking them out of frustration.) He blinked with another muttered cuss as the sun, slightly past the middle of the sky because it was noon-thirty in October, beamed directly into his brain. Then he stared.

The full-grown goose on the other side of the glass stared right back at him.  
Its beady little solid black eyes seemed to see directly into his soul. With the air of a creature who had much better things to do but needed to finish its current work, it impatiently rapped its flat-ended bill against the glass again. _TaptapTAP._

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” Allen said out loud, dumbfounded, Mana’s accent creeping into his voice in his confusion. “You should be migrating.”  
  


“I don’t think the bird can hear or understand you, Al,” Lavi said dryly.  
He heard blankets shuffling for a second, and then slightly tottering steps as Lavi walked up behind him and-- yes, leaned right over his shoulder. Allen resisted the urge elbow his friend in the stomach again. It was a good thing he'd leaned over Allen’s right; he had a full arm to elbow him with. “You know I hate it when you do that, right,” he groused.

Lavi didn’t seem to be paying much attention to him, though. He was squinting at the bird like there was something other than a regular Canada goose to see. It was hardly a new sight. They were all over the campus, and indeed all over all of Calgary, through the whole summer and lately up until the first snow which hadn’t fallen yet. Granted, Allen didn’t usually see geese, or singular, _on the windowsill of his and Lavi’s room_. But there wasn’t anything else special about it to see. Was there? 

“Hmm.”  Lavi turned to look at Allen. 

Immediately, Allen took a step backwards; there was a distinct kind of mischievous chaos-loving gleam in Lavi’s eye that he’d learned to be wary of. “What?” He asked suspiciously. 

 

Lavi kept looking at him for a second, then shrugged and slouched his way back to his bed, deceptively airy-voiced as he got back under the covers. “Nothing. Just weren’t you saying at lunch a few days ago that you’d been noticing more geese than usual following you around?”

“... no?” Allen frowned, rubbing at his eye. It was too early for this. “Well, yes, but they’re all over campus. Eating grass seeds or whatever else they eat. It’s _fall_ ,” he emphasized. 

“Yeah,” Lavi agreed in a very light, ‘fair’ tone of voice that Allen immediately recognized as him about to say some bullshi-- some nonsense. “But, y’know, you in particular had noticed them around you, right? No one else saw enough to mention them.”

… now that Allen thought of it, he was right. Lavi didn’t, and Alma and Kanda hadn’t, it was true. Neither had Miranda, the anxious but sweet mature student who he and Lenalee had been gently encouraging to know them better over the last semester, and she always noticed if something out of the ordinary was happening (usually because she somehow thought it was her fault). It couldn’t’ve just been him, though, right? “Why would that have to do with any--” 

Lavi was still faintly smirking. Oh, _damn it_. “No,” Allen said point blank, frown sharpening into a scowl. “There’s no way this is one of those.”

“Just sayin.” He raised both his hands peaceably. “If you _really_ want to know, the best way is to let it in and look, huh?”

Allen turned and faceplanted onto his own bed again, covering his face exasperatedly with his hand. He _really_ would rather not do anything of the kind, actually, thank you.  
  


Unfortunately, one thing that everyone knew about pinefeather geese-- or “soulmate enforcer geese”, as students called them-- was that they refused to be ignored. The hits on the window had gotten louder in the couple minutes he and Lavi had been talking.  _TapTAPTAP.  
  
_

“Alright, _alright_!” Allen grumped finally, before glass started breaking. He got up and strode angrily back over to the window. “It’s too bloody early for this.”

He felt Lavi’s curious gaze on his bare back as he unlatched the window and started levering the sash up, careful not to overstrain his arm. It felt weird, moving around without the counterbalancing weight of his prosthetic, but he hadn’t even had _time_ to put his other arm on yet. He scowled at the sill.  
Maybe he should’ve grabbed a shirt first. Their window hadn’t had an outside screen since the Valentine’s Day incident last semester, so he wouldn’t have much chance to shoo the bird off once he’d opened it, and the last thing he wanted was webbed-feet scratches all over his chest. 

The goose stilled its relentless attack on the glass, and watched him closely.   
  


Even when he’d finally gotten the window up as high as it’d go and took a couple smart steps back, it just stood there on the sill staring him down.

Allen matched its gaze, heart doing some kind of acrobatic routine. It was definitely a pinefeather. He could see the telltale shimmering tips to the wings from where he was standing. They looked entirely like normal geese except the ends of their feathers were silver in colour, or close to it, and they were said to help people find their soulmates. What that actually meant was they’d follow and harass people who had been… well, _pining,_ romantically, for someone else.

A full thirty seconds passed, with no move from the fowl.  
He called up some of his courage and stepped forward, putting his palm out placatingly. “Hi, look, I’m sure you have work to do here,” he said, speaking as soothingly and with as much of a smile as he could, “But it really can’t be me you’re looking for. So if you’ll just excuse us and go-- back to your flock, for now, or even just the roof of the cafeteria, I’m sure you’ll find whoever you’re-- _ouch!_ ” Allen stumbled farther backwards, now cursing thickly. 

Mid-way through his second sentence the goose had dove through the window as if on a singular mission and had bitten onto his hand. As Allen waved frantically it landed on the floor on both webbed feet, neck balked and wings puffing up, as if to say, _Wrong move._

Lavi laughed so hard he fell out of bed.

 

*

  
On the opposite side of their building and one floor up, Lenalee was having a rather different morning, but had encountered a similar problem.

She had gone out for a morning run, made it back without incident, taken a shower. She was walking to get some coffee at one of the corner cafes, which seemed to pop up like mushrooms around university campuses, when Emilia had texted her. The school’s tag on Twitter was overflowing with people’s poorly-framed and blurry shots of pinefeather geese.  It was around that time of year when the birds usually came around, Lenalee guessed, a little bit bemused.

She didn’t know how she felt about them, overall. Sure, people who got together under threat of painful goose-related death often had longer relationships, which was sweet in a way. It’d been assumed for a long time that that was because the pinefeather geese, who pair-bonded for life like their mundane cousins, had some kind of internal sensor. There was a lot of scientific questions about it. The geese however were extremely uncooperative research subjects, by their nature, unless the scientists in question were themselves pining, in which case the geese had bigger concerns, so nothing had ever really been _proven._ The whole soulmate thing was more of a myth, as Komui had insisted on telling her repeatedly ever since she’d turned sixteen, which was when some of the earliest goose-enforcings had been reported as happening.

Of course, that hadn’t stopped her brother from following his _own_ goose-related romance. Lenalee still remembered the long weekend she’d came home to their small house to find her brother inside with Mr. Bak Chang, the science teacher’s assistant back in her high school; both of them covered in bird-inflicted bruises, scratches, and errant feathers.

It was supposed to be a happy time. And usually it was! But she still found the idea of the whole thing pretty embarassing, and given that, well...  
She thought of pale grey eyes and dyed hair briefly, then flushed and automatically sent a nervous glance up at the sky.

No ominous bird shadows followed her. Yet.

 

Lenalee still felt something, though. A capital-F Felt. The same kind of she’d gotten right before she’d gone home, that last  time, to find that Komui had apparently fallen in love.   
The capital-F Feeling only grew stronger as she made her way back to her dorm, a warm coffee in each hand.

When she walked out of the elevator on her and Emilia’s floor and turned left only to come nearly face to face with a goose outside the window at the end of the hall, staring her down like an antagonist in a horror movie, she wasn’t exactly surprised. The sinking, swooping emotion in her chest was something entirely different.

 

A few people in her hall were grouped around the window, oohing and taking pictures. The goose didn’t move. It probably sensed her, or something. 

Lenalee inhaled, set her shoulders straight, and walked into her and Emilia’s room, set down the coffee with a nod at her friend, who looked up to smile at her in thanks without taking off her headphones, and then went back out the door into the crowd. 

“Hey, everyone be careful, okay?” She said, projecting her voice clearly. She didn’t want anyone to get caught in the crossfire if she was right.  “I think, um. I think this one’s for me.”

Several people’s eyes and cameras swivelled towards her. A few girls she was friends with gasped delightedly.

  
“You’d better get it over with quick.” A deep, dry voice grumbled from the corner. Kanda, one of her oldest friends, was leaning against the windowsill watching the whole situation with feigned disinterest. Kanda was speaking from experience, Lenalee knew. He had gotten his own soulmate goose last year. It had been... memorable.   
He saw Lenalee glance over at Alma, who was taking video with his phone and casually holding hands with Kanda at the same time. Kanda’s ears and cheeks went red and he looked away from Lena sharply, scoffing.

“Who are they, Lena?” Alma asked eagerly. He was bright and starry-eyed.

“I don’t know for sure yet,” Lenalee lied, as she felt her own cheeks start to burn. It’d get really obvious in about five minutes, anyway. The cat was out of the bag. (... the goose was out of the air, really. She thought briefly that Allen would’ve liked that pun, and smiled, despite the nerves twisting her stomach.)  “I’m just going to try to let it in.”

 

The crowd very quickly parted around her, leaving an empty semi-circle of air between her and everyone else, and nothing between her and the window. The goose tilted its head back like it was looking down at her along its beak.

“Well, here it goes,” Lenalee murmured. She summoned up all the courage she had and started pulling open the sideways window.

She was aware of her classmates, behind her, taking another two smart steps back.

Just as the goose in front of Lenalee-- or Lenalee’s goose, as she guessed she had to call it now-- fluffed its wings and flapped into the hallway, landing and stretching itself tall by its neck like a regal visitor, Allen was getting bit by his, which was puffing itself up similarly but with more malice, since Allen had tried to convince it it’d made a mistake. 

 

Lenalee was in a slightly better position than her goose-enforced soulmate, but only just, and not that she knew. Her goose looked around at the gaggle of young adults imperiously, fluttering its silver-tipped wings, and let out a decisive “ _honk_ ”. 

The noise startled everyone staring into scrambling out of its way, while Lenalee stood her ground, the thought of being glad that she’d given Emilia the coffee already flitting through her mind before the goose started forward, nipping at her sneakers threateningly. She yelped and stumbled backwards to dodge it, and then, getting the hint, turned to move back down the hall. As she hurried down it, the goose followed closely, squawking. 

“Good luck!” Alma called out behind her over the noise, still obviously delighted. “Tell us everything when you get back! _Congratulations!_ ”

Scrambling to get the door to the stairwell opened, Lenalee snorted, even while her chest warmed at her friends encouragement, among the swirl of other complicated emotions that were jittering through her right then. She appreciated the congratulations, she did, but ‘good luck’? Easy for them to say. 

 

*

 

The problem-- or more accurately, _one_ of the problems-- was that her and Allen had both been found by their geese at the same time, and now both fowl were attempting to herd them together, but they’d started moving in opposite directions.  
This led to Allen and Lenalee being chased by their respective geese, Looney Tunes-style, all over the residence building; never catching sight of each other, always hurrying forwards and ignoring the wolf whistles from passing students.

 _I haven’t been this exhausted since the octopus hat,_ Allen thought with a mix of despair and begrudging amusement. If this had been the kind of thing that people could pull as a prank, he would’ve been genuinely impressed beyond the inarticulate fuming.

Lenalee was a bit less forgiving. _If I’d known I was doing this much running I wouldn’t have worked out this morning,_ she thought, as her legs started to ache in protest of their overuse for so early in the day. _At least I stretched already._

 

Finally, though, after many doors slammed shut, Lenalee landed in the hallway of her dorm room again after rocketing up the stairs, her goose directly behind her. Almost as soon as her runners touched the scrubby residence hallway carpet, the elevator on the bridge _ding_ ed. Allen stumbled out of it a millisecond later, swearing thickly and trying to fend off a flapping, hissing goose.

Naturally, they caught sight of each other, and stared wide-eyed for a moment. 

It wasn’t that they hadn’t been expecting it. But there’s a very specific emotion you get when you realize that you’ve been followed by a pinefeather goose and will shortly be forced under threat of goose-related death and injury to confront your potential soulmate and confess your feelings towards them. Being _face to face with_ said person, who often has their own agitated goose, is another feeling entirely.

Allen’s pale face caught fire. Lenalee’s light brown skin made a blush was harder to see, but one could tell if they looked right; a flush like copper glowing over her cheekbones.

“Um,” he said, at the precise second she started, “So…”

Both of them immediately stopped and gestured for the other to continue. 

  
The awkward dance might have went on a long time. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Allen’s goose had even less patience than their brethren, and nipped at his leg.  Allen yelped, with an instinctive flinch that sent him stumbling further into the hallway, away from the elevator.

Lenalee tried to step forwards to help him in case he fell. Her pinefeather immediately rounded from behind her calves to block her path with the wrath of a small, feathery god, forcing her to back away into the hall where she’d originally let it in the window.

Allen’s goose chased him the same direction, honking.  
  


A small mercy: the gaggle of other students had dispersed in the time it’d taken them to get chased around campus. Probably most of them had gone back to bed, or to study for midterms. (The ones who couldn’t afford the annoyingly expensive wifi chord to get internet in their room had probably gone somewhere they could get wi-fi.) The only people witnessing this was the two of them.

“I am so sorry,” Allen said over his arms, in a rush, as his fowl started bullying him down the hallway, the same direction Lenalee’s was hissing her towards. He had to keep his arms up to ward off errant goose bites.

“Me too,” Lenalee replied quickly, with a wince at a particularly forceful snap of her goose’s beak towards her elbow.  She laughed a little, instinctively and out of a kind of existential, low-grade panic.

Allen did too. Somehow, despite everything, that helped. As they dodged and stumbled forwards, the both of them smiled at each other.  
  


They still hesitated when they got to the door of Lenalee and Emilia’s room. 

Both were thinking the same thing: dorm rooms weren’t _private_ , exactly. Allen had been to Lenalee’s before, and vice versa. Just quick stops to drop off textbooks, sometimes as a group during a party (either planned or spontaneously manifesting), or to borrow someone’s technically-illegal hot plate to make some breakfast. But never as just the two of them-- the two of them with geese, anyway. It was enough to make anyone a bit nervous.

Said geese started to puff up like terrifying razor-tongued warning orbs again, though, so Lenalee unlocked the door hurriedly and they both stepped inside.

  
  


Emilia was still sitting on her bed, plugged in and concentrating deeply on her screen. She  looked up more at the movement of them coming into the room than at the noise, pulling one of her headphones off. “Hey, is something--” Then her eyes caught the geese.  
She looked at them, then back at their birds. Her eyes locked with Lenalee’s and a rapid-fire understanding seemed to pass between them. Then Emilia got to her feet with her laptop bundled into her arms, smiling politely. “I’m just going to go to the study room, to call my mom and Timothy,” she said over her shoulder, putting on her fuzzy slippers so she didn’t have to walk through the hall in her socks.  
Lenalee and Allen nodded mutely.   
She carefully stepped around the pinefeather birds, Lenalee and Allen standing back to let her pass, and swept out of the room.

 

Lenalee stepped back up to the door and closed and locked it behind the other woman. She turned back to Allen, her gaze dropped to the geese same as Emilia’s had.

For the first time that morning, neither of the geese were staring them down or causing any kind of ruckus. In fact, if someone who didn’t know about geese saw them right then, they’d be positively cute. Both birds had de-fluffed, waddled over to Lenalee’s bed and nestled into the fuzzy rug she’d set beside it when she’d moved in. They were watching Lenalee and Allen expectantly.

“I--” Allen started, then winced as one of the geese extended its neck and hissed.

“I--” Lenalee tried as well, but then _her_ goose hissed, and they were at a standstill. The two of them stood in the middle of the room facing each other awkwardly, like actors in a badly-lit Western.

Lenalee was the one who started it. After a few, bizarre, tense seconds, she cracked up. For a moment she covered her mouth with her hand, then just turned on her heel and sat down on the edge of Emilia’s bed, bubbles of laughter floating out from behind her hands as she covered her face.

It was like fireworks going off. Allen joined her after a second, sitting down beside her (when the geese didn’t start advancing towards them again). He leaned onto his knees, his elbows propping up his face as he laughed along and beside Lenalee.

The strange tension in the room eased and then vanished completely.

Again, their thoughts were nearly the same: a third residual panic, a third delirious joy, and a third just bafflement at the situation. The whole thing-- the whole _day--_ was just ridiculous, and it was a relief to laugh at it, together, at a place they could rest.  
Oddly, their outbursts seemed to appease the pinefeather geese. The two birds called contentedly, not quite a squawk or honk but lower and gentler, and then shuffled closer to one another on the rug as if nestling themselves down for a nap, while their chosen humans hiccuped for breath.

After they’d laughed themselves hoarse, but before they’d entirely stopped, Allen offered her his hand. Lenalee wound their fingers together and held tight.

 

~


End file.
